But I know we can’t. Because out there, I’m sure my little sister is desperately doing damage control for the disaster I caused.
And I can’t do this alone.
“So,” I mumble into Madison’s hair, “what’s the plan?”
She pulls back a little and looks up at me. Her eyes are red, but there’s a little more cheer to her voice. “What makes you think I have a plan, Sacachelli?”
I smile at her. “You always have a plan.”
“Not this time.” She bites that perfect lower lip of hers. “But we’ve got to do something.”
“Something for the proprietor, Mr. Oak,” I say. “Like…like maybe we could give him money to rebuild his pub?”
Madison trails a finger down my back while she thinks. I have to keep my knees from buckling. “Hmm, we don’t have the funds for that. Somehow, I doubt the Queen Dowager is going to let you anywhere near her pocketbook.”
“What if we raised the money ourselves?”
She narrows her eyes at me. “A charity event. You could invite the whole community. Everyone who comes could donate something that will be given to Mr. Oak. That’s genius!” She pulls away and scrambles for a pen and paper in my desk.
“It is genius…except for one part,” I say. “I can’t hold the event. Eldonia will have a tomato shortage if we do that, because everyone will be chucking vegetables at me.”
“Okay, let’s kill two birds with one stone. This community event could raise money to rebuild the pub, but it also has to show the people of Eldonia that you’re serious.”
“They already think I’m serious,” I say. “A serious pyromaniac.”
She glances at me and her eyes are surprisingly sympathetic. “We’re not going to show them that Daniel. We’re going to show them the real Daniel. Who you are with Hayden, with Al, with your team…with me.”
“The only thing I’m good at is hockey, and Lyle’s already turned that into a bad thing.” I bury my face in my hands. “What kind of event could I possibly put on that anyone would want to come to?”
Madison hesitates before saying, “I promised I’d help you…to help Eva. I know we can do this.”
“Well, all I’m capable of doing is scoring goals and making spaghetti. And neither of those can help us.”
Then Madison turns abruptly, a smile spreading from ear to ear, and leans over me. “That’s right, Daniel.”
I’m finding it hard to concentrate with her leaning over me, long black hair brushing against my chest.
“You’re not just good at hockey.” She smiles. “You’re good, no, make that AMAZING, at making spaghetti.” She licks those tempting lips. “I can taste it already.”
…
Madison
Why am I SUCH a sap?
When I saw that picture of him kissing some girl, I wanted to burst into tears. He could hardly endure kissing me yesterday, but some rando? It was so great, he let her take a picture of it.
I should have laughed at Daniel when all the news stories broke. I should have decorated the palace with those condemning headlines and pictures, then taken the first flight home to Chicago and let him eat my dust.
Instead, I’m in the castle courtyard, organizing a giant community bash. For his people. For his future.
For him.
UGH!
It seemed like such a great idea at the time. But right now, the only thing the people of Eldonia know about Daniel is that he’s bastard-born, loves to party, and, oh yeah, burned down their favorite watering hole. That’s it. That’s all they know.
My job is to show Eldonia all the amazing parts of Daniel—the sweetness, the passion, the culture, the generosity.
Because if I can get Daniel on the throne, then I can get my audition. If I get a part, before long, I’ll be a star and get to date Liam Monty. Because at this point, I think it’s the only way I’m going to get over Daniel.
I take a deep breath and get back to cutting out tissue to make the paper lanterns as decorations. Daniel’s supposed to accept the throne in six days, the anniversary of his father’s death. I’ve advertised the community bash will happen four days from now, which means I’m going to need to work some serious magic if I want to throw the best party Eldonia’s ever seen in such a short amount of time.
First, there’ll be a pick-up hockey game, to showcase Daniel’s love of sports and youth. Then a paper lantern making station, in honor of Eldonia’s famous lantern festival. And the piece de resistance—to-DIE-for food, home-cooked by the prince, himself.
Daniel is making up the biggest, baddest batch of spaghetti the Eldonians will ever see. Eva bought a truckload of tomatoes to support all the local farmers. And if Daniel’s mom’s recipe can’t win them over, nothing will.
The only cost for the event will be a donation towards rebuilding Oak’s Tavern. My leg won’t stop shaking and I grab my knee to steady it. We have to raise enough to help that poor man. It’s the only way to salvage Daniel’s reputation.
“Uh, Madison?”
I turn to see Eldredge, who won’t meet my gaze. He nervously strokes his goatee.
“What is it?” I snap, a little harsher than I intended.
“I think you should come with me.”
I give one last appraising look at the courtyard and follow Eldredge. “What’s up?”
“It’s Master Daniel. He is, er, not well.”
Oh no. Daniel’s spaghetti is the key to all of this. Without it, this whole bash will fall apart. Daniel’s cooking is such an integral part of him and his culture. If he’s sick and can’t complete his spaghetti—
I follow Eldredge in uneasy silence. We walk through the halls of servants, running around like teenage girls who just lost their cellphones. That’s another thing to add to my list—organize the servants to get the bash up and running. Oh God, I am in way over my head.
And now there’s Daniel—
I hear it before we even enter the kitchen. Clanging, bashing, shouting. I pick up speed, push ahead of Eldredge, and burst through the door.
It is a warzone.
Sauce is splattered on the floor and walls like blood. Noodles are streamed across the counters, and stuck to the cupboards. There’s even one in Daniel’s hair.
“Sacachelli, pull yourself together!” Hayden’s got his whole body wrapped around Daniel. Alice is on Daniel’s other side.
Daniel is fighting his friends, white-knuckling a pot as big as my whole body.
“JUST LET ME DROWN IN MY OWN MONSTER!” he cries.
I take it all in. Eldredge shivers at my side.
Then I let my cute little Betsey Johnson pumps tap as loud as they can as I stride across the kitchen. “What. Is. Going. On?”
Alice roars like an animal, “GET IT TOGETHER, SACS!” She yanks hard on his arm, desperately trying to pull him away from the pot of sauce.
Daniel wails, “WRONGGGGG! IT’S ALL WROOONGGGG!”
Hayden growls in frustration and snatches Daniel’s shoulders, forcing him to look straight into his eyes. “LISTEN! Your sauce is great! It’s the best! Everyone’s gonna love it!”
“It’s terrible,” Daniel says.
Hayden grits his teeth. “It’s the best fucking sauce in the world.”
“It’s scum—”
“IT’S THE BEST SAUCE IN THE WORLD, OKAY?!” Hayden screams. “I CAN’T HELP MYSELF AROUND IT, OKAY? JUST GOTTA EAT IT. I’LL PROVE IT!!!” Hayden throws his hand into the giant sauce pot.
“Hayden, no—” Alice protests.
But Hayden’s face stiffens. His one hand, deep in the sauce, is still for a single moment, and then he screams and tears his sauce-drenched hand free. “H-HOTT!!!!!”
“I’m trying to boil the scum out of it,” Daniel says sadly.
Hayden keeps screaming and Alice lurches forward to wrap her arms around his shoulders, directing him to the sink.
What have I gotten myself into?
Slowly, I walk over to Daniel, who stares vacantly into th
e pot.
“Hey,” I say.
He grunts.
“Sooo, you going to tell me what’s going on?”
“My sauce sucks.”
I scoff. “Your sauce is the best.”
“No, it’s not!” Daniel says, and I can see energy flowing through his whole body. “I can’t serve this, Madison! I can’t serve this swill! Everyone will laugh at me! Lyle will laugh at me, the Queen will laugh at me, and Eva will be so disappointed—”
I put a hand on his shoulder. It’s splattered with tomatoes. “You’re trying—”
“But I’ve already messed up.” He looks down at his feet. “I’ve got to get this right…I’ve just got to!”
“Daniel—”
But I’ve lost him. A maniacal glint appears, and his eyes twitch once. Twice. Three times. “More onion! It needs more onion!” He grabs a giant chef’s knife off the counter and holds it towards the sky. Light glints from the knife. “MORE ONIOOOOOONS!”
I back up, and suddenly the heavy taps of my pumps are muted under Daniel’s crazy laughing and the sound of his knife against…nothing. There are no onions.
Oh God, he’s cracked.
Suddenly feeling too hot and smothered, I rush from the kitchen. Alice and Hayden join me. Hayden cradles his bright red hand in a cold cloth.
“Princess Evangeline arrives,” Eldredge says, nodding toward the hallway.
Eva walks over, her hips sashaying as if she’s walking down a runway. “Why did one of the sous chefs tell me he fears for his life?”
“Sacs’ lost it,” Hayden growls. “He can’t get the sauce like his Ma makes it and…”
“He’s having a full-out sauce meltdown,” Alice finishes.
Eva rubs the bridge of her nose. I wonder how many headaches we’ve given her since coming to Eldonia. “Well, we have to do something. Lyle’s taking tea with Mama right now! She’s telling all her snooty royal friends that he’ll be the next king. This bash has to work!”
“I know!” I say. “But the stress has gotten to him!”
Eva gives us a pleading look. “Come on. You guys are his best friends. Surely, there’s something we can do to help him pull this off?”
A beat passes and then Alice, Hayden, and I all meet each other’s gaze.
“There’s one thing that always cheers Sacs up,” Hayden says.
I grin. “I think I have an idea.”
Chapter Thirteen
Daniel
The day of the community bash, I stare down at the pot of sauce, bubbling in front of me. There’s twelve others pots waiting to go on the stove. The entire castle kitchen staff idles nearby, waiting for my orders.
Tentatively, I bring the spoon to my lips, take a small taste.
BLAND.
FLAT.
THIN.
There’s just something missing.
I remember when I first started cooking. I was probably around eight or nine when Ma started working late at her job. I wanted to make dinner for her so she had something to eat when she got home. But no matter how hard I tried, I could never get my food to taste like hers.
One night, she came home and saw me in tears on the floor, red sauce around me, as if there’d been a massacre. Actually the scenario was pretty similar to how I’ve been the last few days.
“I just can’t get it right,” I told her. “I’ve put all the same stuff in it that you do, but it doesn’t taste the same.”
Ma just raised a brow and said, “Well, of course it doesn’t. It’s your sauce, not mine.”
“But it’s missing something.” I ran up to her, my wooden spoon dripping red sauce. But she wouldn’t even taste it.
“How can I tell you what it’s missing?” Ma said. “You’re the chef of this dish, not me.”
I throw my spoon to the counter and bury my head in my hands. I try to block out the hushed mutters of the kitchen staff. I’ve changed the recipe fifty times and it still tastes like swill. Serving this slosh would be even more embarrassing than going to the Queen Dowager for help…which I know I’m going to have to do. I’m sure she’s ready to whip out the cucumber sandwiches and tea.
Suddenly, the door bursts open. I would scream if I had any energy left, but I can only blink at the walking mass of streamers, flowers, vases, and candles. Bell comes in a moment later, snatches the arm of the poor person buried beneath all those party supplies, and drags them over to me.
“Sacs. We. Need. Answers!” She grabs a vase from the mass of supplies. I see Tremblay’s head poke out. “What sort of arrangement do you want for the flowers? I was using my own artistic judgement when Eva came in and told me the arrangements looked like they belonged at a toddler’s birthday party! But I can’t ask her what she wants, because she’s dealing with the musicians! It seems the Queen Dowager needed the Royal Orchestra for an emergency tea party, so now Eva’s trying to train the local elementary school choir to sing Miserere mei, Deus!”
I just stare at her. It’s like I’ve entered into some sort of calm, like the warmth old explorers said they felt before they froze to death.
“Sacachelli!” Bell screams.
“Just leave me to die,” I say, looking up at the bright fluorescent lights.
“ARGH!” Bell screams and throws the vase to the floor. “We won’t have to arrange them if they’re broken!”
I don’t understand why they’re all worked up. I’ve admitted defeat. This whole thing is a failure. They just need to accept it.
“Settle down there, feisty pants,” Tremblay says, slowly backing away. “Let’s go find Madison…”
They back out of the kitchen, leaving me to drown in my own sauce.
What was supposed to be a great redemption for Prince Daniel is turning out to be just another reminder of all the reasons I should not be a prince, let alone a king.
I turn to one of the kitchen staff. “If you would be so kind, would you fetch the Queen—”
The double doors to the kitchen burst open and Eldredge stands there, his face flushed. “Prince Daniel,” he gasps, “there is a commotion in the courtyard. You must come right away.”
At least this will delay my inevitable and humiliating defeat to the Queen. “Fine.”
Eldredge leads me through the hall. Eva waits in the grand foyer, the first calm person I’ve seen all day. But she not only looks calm, she’s smiling.
“There’s a little surprise for you outside, Dan-Dan.” She smirks, then snaps her fingers and two members of the staff open the giant mahogany doors.
Outside in the courtyard is total chaos.
But it’s amazing chaos.
I stumble outside, feeling like I’ve entered some alternate reality. Because in the courtyard is my team—the Chicago Falcons.
And they’re…helping.
A booming voice radiates through the court: “PUT THE FLOWER POTS OVER THERE, GERVER! EVANS, SMOOTH THOSE TABLECLOTHS OUT. I DON’T WANT TO SEE A SINGLE WRINKLE! WHAT ARE YOU, A BARBARIAN, STICKLY? THAT’S TWO WHITE ROSES PER POT, NOT FOUR!” Coach Zabinski stands on a chair in the courtyard, blowing that damn whistle of his.
“Well, it looks like someone took care of organizing,” Eldredge trills.
My face grows hot and my eyes start to sting. Never in a million years did I think I would be so happy to hear that blasted whistle.
Then they spot me. An uproar of “SACS!” fills the air and suddenly, the whole team is running toward me as if I’ve just scored the winning goal of a playoff game. It’s a regular old dog pile as I embrace my teammates.
When they finally pull away, I gasp, “How? Why? What are you guys doing here?!”
“Madison organized it.” Tyler Evans runs a hand through his blond curls. “She basically said you can’t do anything without us.”
Coach Z pushes through them and smacks me on the shoulder. “And Falcons soar…even across the Atlantic, it would seem.”
Then I feel her presence behind me. I turn to see Madison. She looks up at me almost shyly.
“Y-you did this?” I stammer.
“Well, Eva dealt with the whole flying a hockey team to Europe thing.” She plays with a strand of hair and looks down. “But yeah, I called them. Each one. And do you know how hard it is to track down hockey players during their summer break? Christ, Evans, how many jobs do you work?”
I feel something warm bubble up inside me. I reach down and pull Madison against me. Her arms wrap around my neck and I place my mouth on hers. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I murmur against her lips.
She pulls away, smiling. “This isn’t all.” She tilts her head toward the entrance to the courtyard.
My whole body stops working and I just stare. Walking through the giant ironclad gate is a short, skinny woman. Her long brown hair flows in the breeze, and she’s wearing her high-waisted jeans and floral blouse.
“Ma…” I breathe.
In a flash, I sprint across the courtyard. “Ma!” I call. She throws her head back with laughter and starts to run toward me, too. But I’m already there, wrapping my arms around her and spinning her around. I’m so much bigger than her now, but I still feel like a child in her arms.
“Danny!” she says, covering my cheeks with kisses.
I make sure my back is to my team so they don’t see how red my eyes are. “I’m so happy you’re here.”
“Your friend Madison called me!” Ma says. “She said you’re planning a big spaghetti night for the kingdom.”
Damn. Even Ma knows. Just another person to disappoint. “Yeah, well, that’s off.”
“’Cause you’re having some trouble with your sauce?” Ma shakes her head. “Madison filled me in. She said you needed my help. I can’t tell you what’s missing—”
I place my hands on her shoulders. “I know what you’re going to say, Ma.” I look to my team, the Falcons. Tremblay and Bell have joined them now. Madison and Eva stand beside them. Finally, I look back to Ma.
I think of my sauce, all those pots waiting for me in the kitchen. “But I think I know what it’s missing now.”
…
Madison
Oh my God.
That smell is to DIE for.
Everywhere I look, people carry heaping plates of spaghetti. I worry my lip, studying their faces for any sign of discomfort, nausea, or an impending riot against the new monarchy.
Just One of the Royals Page 13
